You Are My Sunshine
by Karen Hikari
Summary: It was an insane idea, but perhaps, Blitzen thought to himself, he could be the one to bring the sun to Nidavellir for this elf. And maybe, just maybe, he was doing much more than simply saving an elf's life. Spoilers for all three of the books.


**Hello, hello, hello! Remember all those months ago when I said that you could expect a Blitzstone story from me soon? I messed up. Of course I messed up. This story has been sitting on my desk for weeks, ready to be published, but school mercilessly consumed whatever leisure time I had. So, it wasn't until now that I could find the time to publish this little something.**

 **Without further ado, please read and enjoy!**

* * *

 ** _You Are My Sunshine_**

* * *

–*–*–

 _You are my sunshine,  
My only sunshine_.

–*–*–

If someone had told Blitzen that, one day, he would share his house with an elf, he would have laughed. After all, elves were creatures of light and sun, of green fields that smelled like dew drops and pine needles. The mere idea that one of those beings would ever set foot in Nidavellir was absurd. So no, Blitzen had never spared more than a vague thought for those aurous creatures.

However, Destiny had a tendency to work in bizarre ways and, somehow, Destiny had dropped ― _literally_ dropped― Hearthstone in the dwarfen realm.

The day he met the elf started normally to say the least. Blitzen had woken up at around noon. He'd invested a considerable amount of time in getting dressed and tidying up his bedroom, making it around one in the afternoon when he finally got to the kitchen to fix himself breakfast.

He had ―with much reluctancy, let it be said― accepted that it was time to go grocery shopping. Sighing, Blitzen prepared an insipid plate of scrambled eggs and didn't even bother to clean up the dining room before he grabbed his keys and left the house.

Unfortunately, the son of Freya never made it to the grocery store.

Blitzen had only walked two or three blocks when something caught his attention. Certainly, Blitzen was not the kind of dwarf that walked straight into an alley or that peeked into a rubbish bin. However, just as he walked around a corner, a strange sound escaped the metallic coffins of a dumpster, and he couldn't help it.

Naturally, Blitzen knew all the obvious rules for staying alive―don't walk alone into what could very well be a trap, don't go unarmed into an unknown territory, do not trust your surroundings and follow your gut. To summarize―don't do stupid shit.

On the other hand, the noise he'd heard wasn't the growling of a big animal or the clinging of swords. Rather, it sounded like a weakened whimper.

It would have been so easy to merely keep walking, to hush the tiny voice that told Blitzen to turn around and check what had uttered such a small sound. It would have been so simple to ignore the thought that urged him to follow his hunch and drown it in his grocery list, to focus on the carton of milk he still had to buy. Regrettably, Blitzen had inherited a sense of curiosity of both of his parents. Whenever an idea wormed its way into his head, he couldn't let it go. And so, Blitzen didn't turn the next corner in his trip to the store, for he turned on his heels and walked straight into the dead-end alley.

As soon as he walked closer to the trash can, it became obvious that the metallic dumpster was where the snivel he'd heard had come from. Usually, the son of Freya would not have gone anywhere near a pile of garbage. This time, however, curiosity got the best of him and he promptly stood closer to the bin, careful not to touch anything.

His resolution did not last for too long. As soon as he was able to take a peek into the dumpster, he recognized the whimpering creature. Shivering and surrounded by trash bags the same color of his outfit, laid a clearly unconscious elf.

There was no mistake―it _had_ to be one of the inhabitants of Alfheim. Hair so blond it was almost white, delicate yet sharp features, snowy skin that Blitzen supposed looked even paler than usual at the moment, since he hadn't seen the sun in the gods knew how long. Blitzen had never met an elf, but he damn right knew what they looked like, and the creature in front of him sure as Helheim was an elf.

And a rapidly fading, sick-looking elf, at that.

There was a reason why elves stayed out of Nidavellir and dwarves only ever traveled to Alfheim in old tales. Doing otherwise could kill them. It was because of that reason that Yggdrasil was divided into different worlds to start with. Elves and dwarves could not coexist, it was absurd to even consider it. So, either that elf was trying to get himself killed, or he had ended in Nidavellir by mistake.

A few hours later, Blitzen would ask himself what had motivated him to practically jump into a trash can bin so that he could push an unknown elf out of it. He was not sure of how he had managed to drag the elf to his apartment without calling someone's attention either. Perhaps the reason for that obliviousness was merely that his neighbors were used to his bizarre ways by that time and knew better than to ask him what he was doing.

Getting the elf to his apartment was only half problem. The elf was still unconscious and he kept shaking. Blitzen was not an expert. In fact, he was as far of an elf healthcare expert as one could get, but he was pretty sure that elves could only last a couple of days without their beloved sun, and if this elf's state was anything to go by, he was dangerously approaching the last hours of his second day.

As soon as he got the elf into his home, Blitzen paced around his apartment, promptly collecting every single blanket he possessed. He then proceeded to drop them on the benumbed elf in a desperate attempt to help him keep whatever warmness his body still had.

Blitzen had never seen an elf before and, quite frankly, the wounded, whimpering young man in front of him seemed nothing like the majestic creatures he'd read about. Instead, the person lying in his couch only seemed weakened, hypothermic and wounded. For some reason, Blitzen felt an even stronger drawn to him than he would have, had he met an overwhelming, luminous elf instead.

The gods knew how that elf had ended in Nidavellir. However it had been, Blitzen was not about to let him _die_ in his own living room. It was clear that the elf was much too weakened for Blitzen to even try to make him travel through Yggdrasil, though that did not mean that instead of taking the elf to the sun, Blitzen could not bring the _sun_ to the elf.

It was an insane idea, yet a plausible one, and Blitzen was short of other options.

Perhaps, Blitzen thought to himself ―and it was a very vague 'perhaps' indeed―, he could be the one to bring the sun to Nidavellir for this elf.

–*–*–

 _You make me happy_

 _When skies are gray_.

–*–*–

It was almost ironic, that, in the same way that Blitzen had managed to steal an artificial drop of sun to keep Hearthstone alive while in Nidavellir, Hearth was now returning the favor by endeavoring himself in burning the _kenaz_ rune above his head in the middle of Niflheim. On one hand, Blitzen was beyond proud of the skill level Hearth had accomplished. Not so long in the past, his elf had only managed to summon the power of one rune for a few seconds before he passed out. Now, Hearth had calmly wielded the power of the torch rune for an extended period of time while managing to remain almost unfazed, with the added challenge of the inhospitability of the field they were in.

On the other hand, however, Blitzen was also extremely concerned. Hearthstone's skin, snowy-white on a good day had gone almost transparent from the cold and the effort. His lips, instead of the rouge color Blitzen knew to be a healthy one for his friend had turned crepe pink, and green veins peppered his hands and cheeks, emphasizing the translusence of his skin.

The cold was so intense that Blitzen could hardly feel Hearthstone's hands between his own, as both of them clung on to the blanket that covered their bodies. The action, useless as it was, gave him something else to think about.

He'd told Magnus that the two of them would be the last of them to succumb to death, although he was more than aware that such knowledge was of no comfort. If anything, the one thing that gave the son of Freya some sort of vague relief was the certainty that he would die cradling Hearthstone in his arms. Even if that meant he would have to feel him grow colder with each passing second, to the point where it was as if he were holding ice cubes instead of his friend's hands.

At least, in the end, he would have Hearthstone to cling on to.

–*–*–

 _You'll never know, dear  
How much I love you.  
Please don't take  
My sunshine away_.

–*–*–

Ever since Hearthstone had met Blitzen, he'd known the dwarf had some outlandish ideas. Being around the son of Freya was bizarre on a regular basis. As an example of the heartwarming oddity that came so naturally to Blitzen, Hearth could quote the fact that he was still alive at the moment. After all, what other dwarf in the Nine Realms would have done what Blitz had upon a half-dead elf lying on the street? None other, that was which― _none_.

Not only had Blitzen picked him up and taken him to his own house, no. The son of Freya had also spent that afternoon and the better part of the consequent night working, until he completed another one of his crazy ideas―a sort of tanning bed that emitted a white light that felt as pleasant and warm on his skin as the sun rays.

Blitzen could have easily kicked him out after that. He could have sold off his design of the tanning bed for mountains of red gold. He could have, at the very least, asked Hearthstone to pay him rent. Instead, the son of Freya let out a fruity laugh whenever Hearth mentioned any of those things.

"You are still too weak to leave, my friend," he had brushed off every single time Hearth suggested that it was time he returned to where he'd come from. "This house is big enough to keep us both comfortably, there is no need for you to leave."

The one and only time Hearth had proposed Blitzen began selling either the design of the tanning bed or the artifact itself, the dwarf's features had darkened. "I don't need their money," he'd said. "I made the bed for you and that's it. I wanted to save you. They wouldn't understand that."

Eventually, Blitzen had resorted to several excuses and illegitimate reasons to make Hearthstone stay. First, he'd told Hearth that he couldn't leave until he had taught Blitzen proper ASL.

To be completely honest, Hearth had not believed Blitzen's interest at first. He'd thought it was merely something the son of Freya had said, although he did not necessarily mean it. Something that was not like the other elves' glares of contempt or like his parents' open despise, albeit it held the same meaning. At the time, Hearthstone had thought nothing of Blitzen's proposition. It was something the dwarf had said out of pity, a poignant offering, an attempt to make him feel better about his deafness.

However, Blitz _had_ learned. He'd sat in front of Hearthstone every afternoon for months on end, genuinely paying attention to the elf's corrections. Less than six months after Hearth had first appeared in Nidavellir, Blitzen was already capable of holding a fluent conversation in ASL. Blitz rarely spoke using his voice when they were alone, and they were alone for the most part.

Still, Blitz had not let him leave then either. The reason he had offered then was still plausible, albeit a little risible too―Hearth was the only one out of the two who could cook to save his life.

Inge had taught him how to handle himself around the kitchen, despite the fact that she always insisted that he left in the most polite of ways. She said that he did not need to learn such things, that they were below him. The truth was, Hearthstone actually enjoyed cooking. He had to pay close attention to the measures of the ingredients, to the correct order of the steps, to the times. It gave him something to keep his mind busy, something where it didn't matter if he could listen or talk.

It had proven to be a valuable ability while he stayed in Nidavellir, seeing as taking care of the kitchen was the one chore Blitzen allowed him to do. No matter how many times Hearth reassured him he was fine and that he could do something as simple as sweeping or doing some laundry, Blitz insisted. Hearth was a guest, he said, and he would not allow him to work.

Finally, when Hearth had dared suggest Blitzen collected rent from him, nearly a year after the elf had first appeared in Nidavellir, Blitzen's instant reaction had been to frown. "Excuse me?" he'd asked, forcing Hearthstone to repeat himself. Although that was mostly etiquette, as Blitz proceeded to interrupt him midsentence, grasping Hearth's wrists. It was then that the dwarf turned to raise an eyebrow at his friend. Slowly, Blitzen readjusted the position of his hands, until they were holding Hearth's.

"Honestly?" he'd smiled, mouthing the words so he didn't have to let go of Hearth. "I like having you here. I really enjoy your company. I think… I think there's a reason why you fell on Nidavellir rather than any of the other worlds. You told me that you didn't want to go back to Alfheim. Then don't do it. The doors of my home are open for you, as long as you need or want to stay here. The gods know that I had felt loneliness creep around the corners of this house before you showed up. So, really, if the reason you want to leave is that you don't want to be a problem or to cause me an inconvenience, I'm telling you right now that it isn't like that at all. You're my best friend, you know? If you feel comfortable staying here, then please, feel free to do so."

Ever so slowly, Blitzen let go of Hearth's hands, allowing him to sign. Even once he was free of the dwarf's restraints, Hearth took a moment to consider his answer. Finally, he exhaled a sigh and raised his eyes to meet Blitzen's.

" _Do you… do you mean that?_ " he asked, shaking fingers drawing the words rapidly in the air.

"Every word," the dwarf confirmed. Needing to show Hearth how convinced he was of what he had said, he accompanied his speech with the movement of his hands―first, he made the thumps-up sign with his left hand at the height if his chest. He placed his right hand, doing the same gesture, behind his left one, his left thumb touching the back of his right hand. Then, the sign for 'word'―his left index extended vertically, while his right thumb and index, extended horizontally, not touching his other hand*.

Blitzen, bless his heart, had taken the time to know him so well, that he didn't add anything to those two words. Neither did he move. Instead, he tilted his head and he waited with a gentle smile on his face. Blitz didn't pressure him for an answer, much less did he demand one. And it was a good thing, as well, because by the time Hearth was certain of what he wanted to say, his hands were shaking so much that he would have found himself unable to answer anything.

Being deaf, Hearth knew better than anyone that actions spoke louder than words. Although, given his upbringing, he'd never been one to initiate physical contact. Blitzen, on the other hand… Blitzen was different. From the first day he'd been there, Blitzen had showed no qualms about taking Hearth's hands or fixing his clothes. He didn't mind hugging him or linking their arms. Of course, he wasn't bothered either when Hearth corrected the position of his fingers when he taught Blitz ASL.

For once, Hearthstone decided to follow Blitzen's example. Rather than trying to spell _something_ out with his faltering hands, Hearth leaned forward to engulf his dwarf friend in a tight hug. It was probably the first time he initiated a touch of that kind. Unlike anything he could have expected, Blitz didn't pull back or react badly at the contact. Hearth had to tell himself that _of course_ Blitzen would not do something like that to him. Ever since he'd met him, Blitzen had been nothing if not kind and patient to him. Instead, no more than a millisecond later, Blitz was returning the embrace. Hearth felt the vibrations of his laughter resonate through their entwined forms.

When Blitzen's laughter died down and a different, slower form of reverberation filled the space between them, Hearth had a very clear idea of what Blitz must have been saying― _That's alright, bud. That's alright_. He'd seen Blitz spell out those words so many times that it wasn't hard to picture his hands moving or his lips spelling out the words.

Sighing, Hearth allowed himself to hide his face in the crook of Blitzen's neck, inhaling the dwarf's familiar scent. This was home, he told himself. This strange relationship he'd built with a dwarf, this bizarre stay of his in the one world where it should have been impossible for him to survive. This was _home_ , the one place in Yggdrasil where he was _wanted_ , alien as that idea was to him.

In a rushed thought, Hearth sent a fast expression of gratitude to whoever god had guided his path to Nidavellir instead of any of the other worlds, to whoever had made his path cross with the one person in the Nine Realms who was selfless enough to take care of a stranger and offer him his very own house to live n.

That afternoon, nearly a year ago then, Blitzen had done much more than simply picking an unconscious elf up. He'd saved his life in more ways than Blitzed would ever know.

–*–*–

 _The other night, dear_

 _When I lay sleeping,_

 _I dreamt I held you in my arms._

 _When I awoke, dear,_

 _I was mistaken,_

 _So I hung my head and cried._

–*–*–

Of the many reasons, Hearthstone had imagined he would go back to his parents' house, needing the Skofnung stone to save his best friend's life had never crossed his mind. It wasn't that he actively wanted to go back to Alfheim, but on the nights what he could not stop thinking of his parents' disdainful words, on the days when he asked himself how long it would take before Blitzen grew tired of him and asked him to leave, he wondered. He did so with dread, with a daunting emptiness in his chest and a hitch in his breath. Where would he go? Back to the humiliation his parents had subjected him to for as long as he could remember? Would he try to find a way of living in another of Yggdrasil's worlds, on his own?

Hearthstone had never been able to come up with an answer that settled the thumping between his ribs. He knew that there was no answer to that question that would ease the knot of anguish that formed in his chest whenever that thought assaulted him. And so, he prayed. He prayed to every god he'd ever heard of that Blitzen was kind-hearted enough to not send him packing, even if the day came when his dwarfen friend realized how useless he was, Hearthstone prayed that Blitzen chose to keep him. Even if it was out of pity, even if it was only an act of commiseration, he prayed.

Blitzen had not given up on him, no matter how many times Hearthstone proved he wasn't worthy of the devotion Blitzen treated him with, the son of Freya only insisted that Hearth was more talented than he gave himself credit for. Blitzen trusted him, that much was crystal clear. He counted on him with the same blind dependence with which Hearthstone had leaned on him from the day that they had met.

Hearth couldn't let him down. Not then. He couldn't _fail_ Blitzen. It was simply not an option.

His decision had been instant. If Blitzen needed the Skofnung stone, then Hearthstone would get it for him. Blitz had done so much for him… this was the least he could do to repay him. So Hearthstone had gone back to the sumptuous residence that had always felt too cold and too indifferent to call home.

Blitz had asked him not to. Of course he had, as he frantically tried to stop the hemorrhage in his chest, always too selfless and too generous, but he didn't understand. Hearth could not lose him. He wouldn't allow himself to forsake the only one who had believed in him, the first person who had ever cherished him.

No. there was no 'maybe', there was no 'trying'. He would get the Skofnung stone for Blitzen or he would die while attempting to obtain it. There was no other possibility.

So that night, the first one he spent in his parent's house in over a decade, Hearthstone held on to the memory of Blitzen's laughter, to the way his eyes softened in his smile, and he prayed. He prayed to the All Father and to Sif and to Freya that he would be strong enough to save Blitzen's life.

–*–*–

 _You are my sunshine,_

 _My only sunshine,_

 _You make me happy_

 _When skies are gray_.

–*–*–

As the cold water of the shower un-prettified Blitzen, Hearthstone felt droplets of his own pool at the bottom of his eyes. However, it was not long before the water began dying with red and Hearthstone's shaking hands fidgeted, trying to find the Skofnung stone. With faltering fingers, he placed the gravel on top of the dwarf's bleeding wound. Immediately, the edges of his injury started to sew themselves together, stitching the skin back in place.

Too slowly for Hearthstone's taste, the color began returning to Blitzen's features, and his body grew limp in Hearth's arms instead of the frigid stiffness of granite. In a rapid motion, Hearth caught sight of the dwarf's lips moving, no doubt to question where they were, how he was alive, to insist that Hearth did not return to Alfheim.

He couldn't have cared less about what Blitzen was saying. Even if he had, tears clouded his vision, making it impossible for him to read the dwarf's lips. There would be time to answer all those questions later. There would be time to explain his friend what had happened.

For now, it didn't matter. For that exquisite, perfect moment, nothing else mattered. They would deal with his father later, with Andvari's ring, with Ragnarok itself if it were to come, but they would do so _together_. At least for those stolen minutes, the only thing important enough to be worried about was the wellbeing of the man in front of him.

So he let Blitzen know. He hugged him fiercely, clinging to him for dear life under the icy gush of water. Hearth's hands bowled into fists around the fabric of Blitzen's shirt. He felt the vibration of the dwarf's voice, his arms encircling his waist. As if by magic, the tension in Hearth's shoulders melted away, not by the art of the water, but by the steadfastness of Blitzen's embrace.

Hearth rocked them both back and forth, pulling them as close together as it was humanly possible. He couldn't get enough of the feeling of Blitzen being next to him. He was _there_ , confused, certainly, befuddled, disoriented, but _alive_. Blitz was alive and Hearth was _home_.

There was nothing, nothing in the Nine Worlds that Hearth wouldn't have done to recover this feeling. This closeness, the simplicity with which he could limply fall into Blitzen's arms and forget about the rest of the existing world. And so, he clung to the son of Freya, and he thanked every god he could remember for allowing him to have his dwarf back, and he cried.

Not only had he paid his debt to his father that day; rather, he'd also given Blitz back a small amount of everything the dwarf had given him. In a way, Hearth supposed it could have been summarized as him saving Blitzen's life, in the same way the dwarf had saved his all those years in the past.

Nonetheless, Hearthstone knew better―Blitz might have built a machine that was able to reproduce rays as bright and warm as the sun's. However, they could not compare with the radiance or the closeness Hearth felt when Blitzen held him. And, in the same way that he had done the first time Blitz had successfully signed a full sentence without making a single mistake, Hearthstone vowed to devote his life to the one he owed it to.

–*–*–

 _You'll never know, dear,_

 _How much I love you._

 _Please don't take my sunshine away_.

–*–*–

* * *

 **Well... here goes nothing. This is it. I really hope you enjoyed reading this little something, because I sure enjoyed writing it.**

 **Now, after finishing the series I was as convinced as any other that Hearth and Blitz are a married couple and Magnus didn't notice. So, of course I knew that writing a Blitzstone story would simply be a matter of time. The other day I was reading some Solangelo fanfiction and came across a story with this song. And you know how catchy this tune is, so I was trying to come up with a decent plot for Hearth and Blitz with this song still going around in my head and then... I realized that the lyrics actually worked great for this lovely couple. So... here we are now.**

 **As for the "*", I must admit that I do not speak ASL. I really want to learn it, because it is fascinating to me, but at current time I do not speak it. I searched for those signs on the internet and then tried to describe them as best as I could. If any of them are wrong, please, please point it out to me.**

 **Alright, it seems that this is all for today. In case any of you is reading "Tales of a Caged Animal", I hope to publish the next chapter soon. I really hoped you enjoyed this story and if you did, please leave a comemnt!**

 **Read you soon!**


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